Worthy of Being Pleased (Colonel Fitzwilliam)
by Astonishment
Summary: THIS IS A SHORT PREVIEW ONLY: This is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam's story after the conclusion of Pride and Prejudice. Now that Fitzwilliam Darcy has found his perfect match, will the Colonel find his? In this story, the Colonel comes home for Christmas instead of Easter. Copyright 2016. Sweet, clean romance.
1. Chapters 1 and 2: PREVIEW

**WORTHY OF BEING PLEASED (Colonel Fitzwilliam) **

**Preview Only**

A Continuation of **Tempt You to Accept Me**

 **Summary:** This is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam's story after the conclusion of Pride and Prejudice. Now that Fitzwilliam Darcy has found his perfect match, will the Colonel find his? In this story, the Colonel comes home for Christmas instead of Easter.

 **Disclaimer:** All original Pride and Prejudice characters are the property of Jane Austen. This story is property of the writer. © 2016

 **Jane Austen Quote:** "A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence." ( _Pride and Prejudice_ , Chapter 33)

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

" _How I loathe Almack's!"_ Miss Augusta Hawthorne silently groused. However, her determination rose above her distaste for the assemblies; she was there for the single purpose of presenting her niece to society, in the hopes of securing an excellent match. Her brother was relying on her to guide the young girl through the rigors of her launch into society and nothing would deter Augusta from presenting her to the best advantage.

The coming out ball had been held last week and Miss Geneva Hawthorne had performed splendidly. Tonight was her first appearance at Almack's Assembly Rooms; but she had been dancing since the first set began, and Augusta felt as though she could finally relax. The endless days of planning, shopping, dress fittings, dance lessons and preparations for the coming out ball were finally behind them. Now all that remained was to ensure that the dear girl was seen in all the right places by all the right people so she might make the best possible match.

Of course, Augusta's own come-out had not gone as planned. She had been a plain, lanky girl at eighteen, and no match for the beauties who had come out that same year. All the other girls with their dark tresses and perfectly proportioned figures had not the least trouble finding their perfect mates; however, Augusta's mousy brown hair and boyish figure had attracted no suitors at all. Her mama had brushed it aside, saying that her first season merely 'did not take' and that she would fare much better the next season. However, there was no next season for Augusta. Her mother had died the following winter and she was in mourning for the duration of that season. Then her father had fallen ill and the responsibility for his care had descended upon her shoulders. Giving no thought to her own future, she had spent the next five years caring for him until he finally succumbed to his illness.

After another year of mourning, Augusta was decidedly on the shelf and glad of it. She had no desire to subject herself to the scorn and derision of the London harpies, those ladies who sat in judgement of each girl, casting aspersions on the girls who did not meet their expectations. She could never live up to their standards; what was the use in even trying?

Now, at nine and twenty years of age, she had long accepted that she would never marry—though her acquaintances were relentless in trying to convince her otherwise. They advised her to update her gowns, to wear her hair in a more fashionable style and to cast off her lace cap. But Augusta was determined to draw no attention to herself; nor would she allow the harpies to criticize her again.

At least she was confident that the harpies could have no issue with Miss Geneva Hawthorne, for her niece was a beauty – a diamond of the first water! Blessed with fashionably dark curly hair, a flawless complexion and a shapely figure, Geneva had easily charmed the finest sons of the _Ton_. No, her dear niece would not follow in her aunt's footsteps; she would find a match and live her life as a happily married woman.

Unfortunately, Augusta's outward confidence did nothing to assuage her feelings of inadequacy as she sat alone on the edge of the dance floor. Despite her attempts to hold her head high, being once again at the scene of her long-ago failure filled her with apprehension. Thank goodness she had a few friends she could rely on for support; Mrs. Ashford and Mrs. Harrington. Both ladies were new acquaintances and Mrs. Harrington had a young daughter who was enjoying her second season.

The young bucks and dandies in attendance had crowded around Geneva, hoping for the opportunity to dance with her and Augusta was well pleased with the attention she had drawn. She would most likely receive offers of marriage from young hopefuls, but Augusta had advised her niece that she was under no circumstances, to accept _any_ offer during her first season. Her brother was adamant on this issue, claiming that every young man in London must be a reprobate, a fortune hunter or both. Thankfully, Geneva was not the sort of girl who would be easily tempted into matrimony by a romantic speech or flattering compliment; Augusta had no fears in that quarter. However, she did worry about the unscrupulous characters who abounded in town and she was determined that Geneva would not fall prey to them.

* * *

Richard Fitzwilliam entered Almack's in the highest of spirits. A colonel in His Majesty's Royal Army these past ten years, he was home on one month's leave from his regiment, which was currently stationed on the Peninsula, fighting off the despicable French army. He planned to enjoy the evening to the fullest, dancing with the loveliest ladies and mingling with London's elite. Tonight, however, he had one particular lady uppermost on his mind; Miss Caroline Bingley.

His father had confided to him a story of the lady's most recent exploits. Despite being born into trade, Miss Bingley was known for her desire to marry into the landed class and her determination to win the affections of the inimitable Fitzwilliam Darcy, Richard's cousin and one of England's most eligible bachelors. Her brother's friendship with Darcy had thrown her into his path and she had used that opportunity to her best advantage. After waiting years for him to declare himself, Miss Bingley had taken matters into her own hands; she locked herself in Darcy's study and employed her most provocative allurements in an attempt to secure the long expected declaration. Unfortunately for Miss Bingley, the plan to force Darcy's hand had been foiled and her brother was determined to marry her off as quickly as possible to whatever suitor might be willing to endure marriage to a harridan.

For Richard, however, this was a unique opportunity; if Miss Bingley should be willing to accept his offer, her twenty thousand pounds would allow him to retire from the army and live a comfortable life. As the second son of an earl, Richard had no alternative but to work for a living or find a woman with a handsome dowry.

Richard chuckled to himself at the thought of his reserved cousin deflecting the advances of a woman obsessed with matrimony. He himself harboured no expectations of acceptance by the lady but found the thought diverting; if nothing else, it would be an entertaining story to relay to the men in his regiment.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam!" a voice exclaimed and he turned to observe Mrs. Ashford, an acquaintance of many years. "How lovely to see you here this evening!" she said with an endearing smile.

"Mrs. Ashford, a pleasure indeed!" he replied, offering a bow.

She inquired after his mother and he assured the lady that his mother enjoyed the best of health.

"I am certain that she is pleased to have you at home. I had not known that you were in London."

"Yes, I am on leave for a month and plan to make the most of it!" he said with a devilish grin.

"Oh yes, there are many lovely ladies here this evening who would enjoy dancing with a handsome colonel in His Majesty's army," she crooned.

Richard had no illusions that he was as handsome as the lady suggested but he bowed to her, humbled by her gracious compliment. "I am hoping for just such an opportunity," he said.

Her voice took on a warning tone. "I could not help but notice you observing Miss Bingley; I certainly hope you have no designs in that quarter," she said.

"Why should I not, Mrs. Ashford? She is a beautiful young woman," he said with a smirk.

She acknowledged his teasing with a shake of her head. "You know as well as I that beauty can be deceiving."

"Perhaps I am the deceiver, my dear Mrs. Ashford."

She sighed. "Very well then, but I shall not wish you luck, Colonel. I have no hopes for your success."

He chuckled merrily. "You have done your duty to my mama quite well, madam. I shall be sure to tell her so. May I rely on you for an introduction?"

Mrs. Ashford assured him that she would do so and when Miss Bingley was escorted off the dance floor, his friend expertly performed the civilities and left them.

Richard stood to his full height, holding his hands behind his back. "Miss Bingley, may I have the honour of leading you through the next set?"

"Certainly, Colonel," she replied, appearing quite uneasy. They sipped lemonade while waiting for the next set to begin. "How is it that we have never met before, Colonel Fitzwilliam?" she inquired.

He wondered if she had guessed his relationship to Fitzwilliam Darcy. "I have been stationed on the Peninsula for a few years," he said.

"I commend you for your service to the King," she said with a small curtsy.

He bowed in return and as the orchestra signalled the start of the next set, he extended his gloved hand and escorted her to the floor. "You dance beautifully," he said as they joined hands in the centre of the dance.

"As do you, Colonel."

He nodded his acknowledgment. Having the opportunity to observe her at such close range, he could not help but be impressed by her beauty. She had all the appearances of a refined woman, dressed in flattering fashions, with an elegant demeanour and coiffure. Indeed, he could find no fault with her appearance; hers was a well-shaped form, endowed with lovely feminine curves. Though he knew of her unfortunate quick temper and vulgar behaviour, he was certain that if he could withstand the rigors of war, he could easily tolerate a woman's ill-advised outbursts.

"Are you enjoying the holidays, Colonel?"

"Yes, I always enjoy the festivities in London."

"Oh yes, there are so many parties and balls to attend!" she said as they continued the dance.

"I am especially looking forward to the Montgomery Ball. Perhaps I shall see you there," he suggested. That event was the most sought-after invitation of the holiday season.

"I shall look forward to it. Are you acquainted with Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?" she inquired.

 _Clever girl_ —he thought. "Darcy is my cousin," he said aloud.

"Then your father is… Mr. Fitzwilliam?" she inquired.

"Lord Matlock."

Her eyes flew open wide, but she quickly recovered her reserved deportment.

This was the moment he had waited for. "Miss Bingley, I know our acquaintance has been of short duration but I am quite taken with your beauty."

"Thank you, Colonel," she said, lowering her eyelashes.

"Even more pleasing than your beauty however is your elegant demeanour and stately grandeur," he continued as the dance ended and he escorted her off the floor.

"You flatter me, Colonel." She blushed lightly in a lovely display of maidenly modesty.

"Will you do me the honour of accepting my hand?"

She hesitated for a moment, searching the crowd from someone, possibly her chaperone, and back again. "Are you requesting another dance, Colonel?"

"I am requesting your hand in marriage, Miss Bingley."

"Oh dear, I had not the slightest idea – that is, I am quite taken aback!" she said with alarm.

"I apologize for the sudden nature of my address but I assure you that I am in earnest."

The orchestra signalled the next set and a young man approached Miss Bingley. "Excuse me for interrupting, but the next set is about to begin," he said, extending his hand to the lady.

Unwilling to concede any ground Richard said, "May I have the set following, Miss Bingley?"

She offered no smile but agreed none-the-less, acknowledging him with a nod.

He watched her walk away and wondered what she might be thinking. _Does she know I am the second son?_ If she were to discover the truth, he had little hope of her acceptance but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Richard went in search of a familiar face and found Miss Beverly Harrington, the youngest granddaughter of one of his father's old friends. She easily accepted a dance and they chatted amiably as the set began.

"How stunning you are in your regimentals, sir," she said as they met in the centre of the dance.

"You flatter an old soldier! You, on the other hand, are the most stunning lady in the room!" he said with a carefree air.

"You are kind to say so, Colonel, even though it is a grievous falsehood," she quipped.

"You are too severe, Miss Beverly. You outshine everyone else."

"Then you must not have made the acquaintance of Miss Hawthorne, sir. She is considered the _Incomparable_ of the season," she said.

"I shall not believe you, Miss Beverly! This Miss Hawthorne can only be a pretender to the honour!"

"You may judge for yourself, sir. She is coming forward now."

Richard observed the young lady in question as she came down the dance with her partner and instantly he was struck by her beauty. Her dark brown hair set off her fair complexion and her blue eyes were enhanced by her pale blue gown. Richard knew nothing of ladies' fashion but Miss Hawthorne's gown fit her figure to perfection. "She is tolerable, I dare say, but she is nothing compared to you, my dear Miss Beverly," he whispered into her ear as he circled around her.

"Dear Colonel, what a shocking flirt you are! I wonder what you might tell Miss Hawthorne about me, if you had the opportunity!" she said with a sly smile.

"I would tell her that you are the most beautiful young lady of my acquaintance."

"Well then, I shall warn her not to believe a _word_ you say!" Miss Beverly said, glancing over her shoulder.

He laughed merrily at her reply. "You are a delight!" he said.

* * *

Mrs. Wanda Trout was appalled to see Miss Caroline Bingley in Almack's Assembly Rooms. There was no question that she was a beautiful girl who wore all the latest fashions; unfortunately, her late father had been a tradesman. In Wanda's opinion such social-climbing fortune hunters should never be admitted into polite society. "What is that Bingley woman doing here?"

Her companion, Mrs. Beamish was equally aghast. "I know not how that horrid creature could have secured a voucher for these assemblies!"

"I hope she does not cast her lures out for my son Sidney!" Mrs. Trout fanned herself to calm her irritation. She could not abide such a daughter-in-law. Miss Bingley had lately made a spectacle of herself, begging for invitations to fashionable parties and attempting to mingle with the first circles. The stench of trade would never infiltrate the Trouts.

"No, I dare say she has set her sights much higher."

Wanda Trout watched the young lady curtsy to a wealthy prospect, the heir to a prosperous estate in Shropshire. If Mr. Waverley knew that his eldest son had been seen dancing with a tradesman's daughter, heaven only knows what might happen! She was not intimately acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Waverley, but if she was, she would certainly advise them of their son's indiscretion.

Mrs. Trout gasped, observing Colonel Fitzwilliam approaching Miss Bingley for a second time this evening. "The poor man! Does he not know what a harridan she is?" she whispered behind her fan.

Mrs. Beamish shook her head, sighing. "Better the colonel than your Sidney, I should think."

Yes, they were both in complete agreement on that score.

* * *

Richard noticed Miss Bingley's reserved demeanour during the next set; she had obviously used the time away from him to acquaint herself with his circumstances. "Have you given any consideration to my offer, Miss Bingley?" he inquired, feeling quite certain of her reply.

"Oh Colonel, you are so kind to have made such an offer but I fear I must decline," she said demurely. "I am of the opinion that we would not suit."

This was exactly the response he had expected. "I am an obliging gentleman, Miss Bingley. I have no doubts that we would suit perfectly," he said. He was tempted to disclose his knowledge of her recent escapade, but of course that would not serve.

"You are very kind, sir," she said again, "and I hope you will take no offence to my refusal."

He smiled. "You must think nothing of it; I am well used to being rejected, Miss Bingley." He knew perfectly well that as the second son of an earl, he was not a prize on the marriage market. For that matter, Miss Bingley, an ambitious woman in her third season, could scarcely be considered an admirable prospect either. "I wish you nothing but the best," he said.

For a moment he considered allowing her to be silent for the rest of the set but decided that it would be infinitely more entertaining to force her to engage in conversation. "Are you well acquainted with my Darcy cousins?" he inquired.

She smiled. "Oh yes, I have spent many enjoyable evenings in the company of Miss Darcy and Mr. Darcy."

"Indeed, it is a wonder that our paths have not crossed sooner."

"I suppose I was still in the schoolroom when you were last in town," she said lightly.

Richard could only take this to mean that in the years since she had come out, she had inexplicably placed all her hopes on Darcy. "Yes, it has been some years since I have been to these assemblies."

"I hope you find them to your liking," she said with a pretty smile.

"With such lovely dancing partners as you, I could not help but enjoy the evening!"

"You are all kindness, sir."

Richard was amused by her air of propriety; had she not quite recently abandoned such decorum in pursuit of a wealthy husband? Bored by her civilities, Richard decided it was time for some fun. "I have just learned of the Incomparable of the season; a Miss Hawthorne, I believe."

"I have not made her acquaintance."

"Nor have I but I have heard that she has captured the attentions of all the most eligible bachelors in town." Of course, he had heard no such thing but he took great delight in her look of annoyance. "No doubt they shall all clamour for her attention," he said with a grin.

She assumed a false smile. "Shall you count yourself among them, Colonel?"

"No, not I! Schoolroom misses are not my style; I require a more mature woman."

Her eyes flared with anger. "Well then, I shall wish you all the best in your endeavours."

The dance came to an end and he escorted her to her brother. "It is a pleasure to see you, Charles," he said, greeting his old friend.

"Richard, how good to see you!" Charles Bingley replied in his usual amiable manner. "Did you enjoy your dance?"

"Immensely!" Richard said with a merry grin. "If you will excuse me, I am off to find another partner!"

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

The colonel did find another partner almost immediately when he collided with his dear friend, Mrs. Esther Montgomery, who greeted him with a captivating smile.

"Have a care, Fitzwilliam! You almost assaulted my wife!" Mr. Peter Montgomery exclaimed in jest. Richard and Peter had joined the army together and served the same regiment until Peter came into his inheritance, five years ago. Through the years, they had remained the closest of friends.

"You must allow me to apologize by dancing with me, Esther," Richard said with a bow. "I trust your husband will call me out later but I shall enjoy one last dance beforehand."

"Oh Colonel, what a complete hand you are!" Esther said, laughing as he escorted her to the dance floor. The dance began and they met together in the centre of the group. "It is far more likely that Peter will thank you for allowing him to escape to the card room for the next half hour," she advised him.

He snickered with delight. "I find more amusement on the dance floor. I may play cards with my comrades any day of the week but only in London may I dance with lovely ladies such as yourself."

"And Miss Bingley, of course," she added with a grin.

"Indeed, Miss Bingley is quite lovely but you cast her into the shade." He grasped her hands and stepped to the side.

She shook her head. "You are an incorrigible flirt, sir!" she told him.

"I rather think I am quite accomplished, madam." He enjoyed her gentle reproof and could not help flashing a mischievous smirk.

"Without question, you are! Have you made the acquaintance of Miss Hawthorne?" she asked as they went down the dance together.

"No but I have heard that she is this season's Incomparable," he said.

"Indeed that is true of the _younger_ Miss Hawthorne. I was speaking of the _elder_ Miss Hawthorne," Esther told him.

"There are two?" They reached the end of the dance and turned to retrace their steps.

She nodded. "The elder is the _aunt_ of the Incomparable."

"No, I have not had the pleasure of meeting either Miss Hawthorne."

"May I do the honours? I think you will be pleasantly surprised," she said as they reached their original places.

"By all means!" he said, and he released her hand and returned to the line.

* * *

"But you must marry me, Miss Hawthorne!" the pale, fair-haired young man exclaimed as they danced.

Miss Geneva Hawthorne was unmoved by his assertions; she was under strict instructions to refuse all offers, but in any case, this one was hardly to her liking. His expression was grim, his eyes vacant and his voice sounded desperate. "I assure you, Mr. Fenton, I am flattered by your attentions and thank you most graciously for your offer but I must decline."

"My intention is not to flatter you, Miss Hawthorne! I am most sincere in my affections."

"But sir, our acquaintance is of such short duration." She was determined to keep the encounter as civil as possible, but how vexing he was with his incomprehensible persistence. "We have only just met! How am I to accept you when we hardly know each other?"

Her swain was undaunted. "I know that I love you, my dearest Geneva."

"Mr. Fenton, you have no leave to use my given name," she reminded him, though keeping a polite tone.

He was instantly contrite. "Forgive me, Miss Hawthorne, but I shall not rest until you have accepted me. I am unable to think of anything else."

"Mr. Fenton, in the one week since we have met, we have danced together twice. Is that not correct?" she inquired. He acknowledged her with a nod. "How can you expect me to form an attachment in less than one hour?"

"Well then, I shall request another dance this evening," he said as they went down the dance together.

"Then I would be obliged to decline and I would not be permitted to dance again this evening," she said, reminding him of the rules of propriety. "Would you be so cruel?"

He shook his head. "I shall not mind in the slightest if you are unable to dance with anyone but me."

"Then you shall surely spoil my evening. How am I to enjoy myself if I must sit out?"

"Now you are being cruel, Geneva – Miss Hawthorne," he said. "How am I to enjoy myself if I must watch you dance with other men?"

She attempted to explain the injustice of her position to Mr. Fenton. "There are many young ladies in attendance and you may dance with whomever you please, but I am forced to wait for an invitation."

He sighed and shook his head.

"Come now, let us not quarrel," she said. "We will enjoy the dance and part as friends." Mr. Fenton nodded his agreement but they continued the dance in silence. She could not help noticing that he sulked rather like a dejected puppy.

* * *

"That Hawthorne girl is quite a beauty," Mrs. Trout observed.

Mrs. Beamish glanced in the young girl's direction and nodded her agreement. "This season's Incomparable, so I am told."

"Young Mr. Fenton is already smitten."

"It is not is first time, I fear," Mrs. Beamish said. The two ladies snickered quietly behind their fans. Over the past few months, the young man's many infatuations had drawn so much attention that he had been the topic of many whispered exchanges.

"All the young men are eager to dance with her, but a beauty like Miss Hawthorne may take her time in choosing a suitor." said Mrs. Trout." She turned her eyes across the room to the elder Miss Hawthorne, Miss Geneva Hawthorne's chaperone. "'Tis a shame that her aunt enjoyed no such success when she made _her_ come-out," she noted sadly. "Now she is irretrievably on the shelf."

* * *

Miss Augusta Hawthorne had been diligently watching her niece dance all evening. She had no doubts that Geneva would behave in her usual composed demeanour but she could not help distrusting every young buck and dandy she danced with. Perhaps their intentions were honourable but it was possible they were not.

Geneva was presently dancing with a young man from an excellent family and Augusta allowed herself to relax for a moment. She had to admit that sitting for such an extended period of time was making her quite irritable. _Should Almack's not provide more comfortable chairs for its patrons?_ —she thought, then laughed at her own question. She had sampled the paltry provisions at the refreshment table; apparently, seeing to the patrons' comfort was not the main enterprise of this establishment. But she resolved to complain no further, as Almack's did offer a most excellent setting for young ladies to meet eligible suitors.

"Has something amused you, Miss Hawthorne?" her companion asked, jolting her from her silent musings. Mr. Drummond had been sitting next to her for nearly thirty minutes, droning on about nothing of consequence. Her mind must have drifted off.

"Oh yes, Mr. Drummond," she replied. "I was just remembering my niece's fifth birthday; it was such a happy occasion," she said. She had little hesitation over fabricating the story; it was no less boring than his own stories. He was a perfectly nice gentleman, who was perfectly handsome and smartly attired, not to mention an excellent prospect with an excellent living; but indeed he was the most boring man she had ever encountered. He told the most tedious stories in such a monotonous tone that she feared she might yawn at any moment.

"And now here she is, all grown up and out in society. You must be proud," he said.

"Oh yes, very much so," she replied, dearly hoping that he would go away.

Mr. Drummond persisted. "You are an admirable guardian, I must say, Miss Hawthorne," he said. "You have done a fine job with your niece and she is ready to spread her wings and fly."

 _Oh dear!_ _If only I could sprout wings, I would fly as far away from Mr. Drummond as possible!_ Augusta offered him a polite smile and returned her gaze to Geneva.

She watched with unblemished pride as her niece danced a reel with her partner. How effortlessly she performed. The endless lessons and her tireless practice had served her well and Augusta was grateful for this quiet moment to observe Geneva in peace.

"If not for my injury, I would ask you to dance, Miss Hawthorne," Mr. Drummond said.

"You are so kind, Mr. Drummond," she replied. In fact, he had already twice mentioned that his injury prevented him from dancing, but she thought him ever so thoughtful to mention it yet a third time.

"Miss Hawthorne! How lovely to see you again!" Mrs. Montgomery exclaimed as she approached with an unknown military man.

Augusta rose instantly while Mr. Drummond struggled to his feet. "Hello, Mrs. Montgomery. It is a pleasure to see you again so soon," she said. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had attended Geneva's come out ball last week and Augusta was relieved at the diversion of a friendly face.

"Mrs. Montgomery; always a pleasure," Mr. Drummond said, balancing precariously on his cane. "Colonel Fitzwilliam." He nodded to the gentleman standing with her.

Augusta noticed the marked difference between the two gentlemen; one was tall and muscular, the very image of health, and the other was of average height, appearing slender and fragile.

Mrs. Montgomery acknowledged Mr. Drummond with a curtsy and gestured to the officer. "I would like to make Colonel Fitzwilliam known to you, Miss Hawthorne," she said.

Colonel Fitzwilliam made a dignified bow. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hawthorne," he said.

She was well pleased with the colonel's manners and charming smile; he was in every way agreeable and cut a fine figure in his regimentals. His blue eyes held a merry glimmer, which made her wonder what had so amused him.

"The colonel is on leave for the holidays," Mrs. Montgomery said.

"Oh how lovely! Is your family in town, Colonel?" Augusta inquired.

He smiled broadly. "Yes, my mama plans on spoiling me for an entire month, I fear," he said with a laugh.

"Enjoy it while you may, Colonel," Mr. Drummond dryly replied.

Mrs. Montgomery extended her hand to the gentleman. "Mr. Drummond, will you kindly escort me to the refreshment table? I am in desperate need of lemonade," she said.

"Certainly madam." He offered his arm and escorted her away.

"Was Mr. Drummond keeping you entertained, Miss Hawthorne?" the colonel asked with a sly grin. He gestured for Augusta to reclaim her chair and then sat down next to her.

She was amused by his silly smile, though indeed Augusta thought that Mrs. Montgomery was an angel sent from heaven for relieving her of the kind but tiresome man. "Mr. Drummond has been very thoughtful to keep me company while my niece dances," she said.

"Why are you not dancing yourself?" he inquired.

"Oh, I do not dance, Colonel. I am far too old for such amusements."

"Stuff and nonsense!" he exclaimed. She was momentarily startled by his retort and he appeared instantly contrite. "Oh, forgive me! I did not mean to be so abrupt but I observe many ladies dancing here tonight who must be your age or older."

"Perhaps," she said, "but I have a young niece in my care who must be diligently supervised."

He nodded his understanding. "Yes, I have heard that you are here with your niece."

"Have you come for an introduction, Colonel?" she asked with no small amount of scepticism; it would not be the first time a gentleman had approached her in hopes of being introduced to Geneva.

He gazed at her with some bewilderment until understanding washed over his face. "Indeed I have and I am infinitely pleased to have made your acquaintance, Miss Hawthorne," he said with a devilish smile.

She felt the heat rise to her face and averted her eyes.

"You may rest easy, Miss Hawthorne. I have no designs on your niece," he whispered.

She knew she was blushing brightly and attempted to compose herself. "I beg your pardon, Colonel. I am very protective of her," she said, glancing in Geneva's direction.

"As you _should_ be; I have a young cousin who is quite dear to me. I shall take no offence at your efforts to shelter your niece from a man like me," he said with a teasing smile

She shook her head in mortification. "I _do_ apologize, sir. I am certain that Geneva would be pleased to make your acquaintance."

He chuckled lightly. "No, indeed, I am certain that she would _not_ enjoy meeting someone nearly twice her age! Her time is much better spent meeting the younger set," he said.

Augusta knew not where to fix her eyes; she hoped that the gentleman would not judge her too harshly for making such a false assumption. She watched Geneva as she danced feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions.

"I am certain that I shall be just as diligent in protecting Georgiana when she makes her come out," the colonel said.

"Is she your cousin then?"

"Yes, her brother and I share her guardianship, appointed by my uncle. She just turned sixteen," he said, pushing his shoulders back.

She could only imagine that he was as proud of his cousin as she was of Geneva. "Well then, you shall have the pleasure of watching the young men vie for her attentions," she said with a smile.

"I doubt I would find any pleasure at all in such a thing."

* * *

He found her altogether charming. She had many admirable qualities but most delightful of all were her green eyes; he had never seen eyes so vivid. The brightest emeralds could not compare to her expressive eyes. He found himself staring and had to force himself to look away. She wore a modest dove-grey gown, her brown hair was arranged in a severe, unflattering style and she wore a lace cap over her hair, something he found somewhat perplexing, as unmarried ladies usually did not wear them. He generally disapproved of caps; he saw no reason whatsoever for a pretty young woman to hide her hair behind a dowdy cap, even if it was made of delicate lace. Yet despite the cap, Richard was pleasantly enchanted by her and when Mr. Drummond returned to claim his seat, Richard reluctantly relinquished the chair to him and took his leave.

He wandered over to the refreshment table for a cup of lemonade and took a sip. It was even more diluted than he remembered from years past.

Mrs. Ashford approached him with a gleam in her eye. "Well, Colonel? How was your dance with Miss Bingley?" she inquired.

"Quite nice, thank you! She is an excellent dancer!" he said with a grin.

"Yes, she has enjoyed quite a bit of attention this evening."

Richard had enjoyed his bit of fun but was glad he had been diverted from his original purpose for attending the assembly that evening. He cast his gaze to the other side of the room. "What do you know of Miss Hawthorne?" he inquired.

Mrs. Ashford offered a satisfied smile. "I thought you might ask about her, Colonel. She may not have Miss Bingley's fortune but she is quite lovely."

He nodded. "She is indeed but does she never dance?"

"Oh no, never! She will not take her eyes from her niece."

"But she is far too young to sit out." A fine lady like Miss Hawthorne should be enjoying the evening, not sitting with the matrons.

"And she is far too young for that horrid cap!" Mrs. Ashford said, matching his own opinion on the matter. "She is determined for her niece to have a successful season and will draw no attention to herself," she said.

Richard nodded his understanding. "Will you do me a favour, Mrs. Ashford?"

"By all means, Colonel!" she said with a broad smile.

* * *

Geneva and her partner approached Augusta at the end of the set. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Hawthorne," the young buck told Geneva. He was a recent acquaintance and Augusta was pleased that he observed every propriety, including returning Geneva to her side.

After he had taken his leave, she turned to her niece. "Did you enjoy the dance, Geneva?"

"Oh yes, Aunt Augusta! Mr. Boynton was a perfect gentleman. But I now find myself quite exhausted!" she said. "I would like to sit for a while, if you do not mind."

Augusta shook her head. It was no wonder her niece wished to rest; she had danced every set since the night began. "I shall fend off your admirers until you are quite recovered," she said.

"Aunt Augusta!" Geneva protested with a giggle.

"Hello Miss Hawthorne," Mrs. Ashford said in a cheery tone.

They both rose to attend her. "Good evening, Mrs. Ashford," they replied in unison.

"You know the colonel, of course, Miss Hawthorne," she said, gesturing to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Yes, Geneva, this is Colonel Fitzwilliam. Colonel, my niece, Miss Hawthorne," Augusta said, performing the introductions.

The colonel offered a stately bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hawthorne, and I might add, quite convenient that I need remember only one name for the two of you," he said with a glimmer in his eye.

Geneva offered a pleasant smile. "Yes, it is often quite confusing having the same name as my aunt; however, you may remember her as the original Miss Hawthorne and me as the imitation," she said.

"I am certain that you are no such thing, Miss Hawthorne," he replied.

Mrs. Ashford bridged the brief, awkward silence that ensued. "I imagine that you would like to give your feet a rest, would you not, Miss Hawthorne?"

"Oh yes!" Geneva said, appearing somewhat weary. "I have been dancing for hours, it seems."

The colonel fixed his eyes on Augusta and extended his hand. "Will you do me the honour, Miss Hawthorne?" he asked.

She did not hesitate with her response. "Oh no, I thank you most kindly Colonel but I am content to sit with my niece while she recovers."

"Nonsense, my dear," Mrs. Ashford said. "I should be happy to sit with Miss Hawthorne while you dance with the colonel." She took one of the empty chairs and patted the chair next to her, inviting Geneva to sit beside her.

Augusta grew alarmed. "Oh no, I could not impose on you!" she said.

Mrs. Ashford resolutely shook her head. "It is no trouble at all. Miss Hawthorne and I shall get on splendidly, shall we not, my dear?" she said, smiling warmly at Geneva.

"Oh yes, Aunt Augusta, you must dance! I shall be perfectly fine here with Mrs. Ashford!"

The colonel stood waiting with his gloved hand extended and an easy, unaffected smile on his face and Augusta found that she could not refuse. "Thank you, sir," she said, placing her hand in his and allowing him to escort her away.

* * *

"I am honoured, Miss Hawthorne," the colonel told Augusta as they took their places on the dance floor.

The music began but Augusta could not help feeling a trifle awkward. She had not danced in public in many years – not since her own disastrous season. She glanced nervously back to Geneva, who seemed agreeably engaged in conversation with Mrs. Ashford.

"You need not worry, Miss Hawthorne," the colonel said. "Your niece is in good hands."

"Did you arrange it?" she asked him.

"I confess that I did," he said with a sheepish grin.

She smiled. "I suspected as much and I thank you for doing so. I have not taken my eyes away from her all night."

"Well, now you may relax and enjoy yourself for a while," he said.

"And did you also arrange for Mrs. Montgomery to come to my rescue earlier?"

He chuckled lightly. "That was Mrs. Montgomery's design, however, I shall be pleased to arrange it anytime in the future should you so desire it," he told her.

She felt a twinge of guilt for wishing to be rescued from Mr. Drummond. She should be grateful for his marked attentions. He had exemplary manners and extended every courtesy to her but was capable of only the most mundane conversation. "He is a dear, sweet man," she said.

"Without question." As they continued down the dance together, he lowered his voice. "Did he mention his injury?"

"He did."

"Several times, I would imagine," the colonel said. She averted her eyes, attempting to suppress a giggle. "You are very kind to endure his artless attempts at conversation," he whispered. "He does tend to drone on needlessly."

Poor Mr. Drummond had fallen from his horse some months ago and still suffered the after effects of that injury. He was a perfectly pleasant, attractive man but he simply had no address. The colonel, on the other hand, had excellent address; his sense of humour was the perfect complement to his pleasing manners and easy conversation. _Yes, the colonel is an exceptional dance partner—_ she thought. "Will you be at the Montgomery Ball next week?" she inquired aloud.

He grinned broadly. "Now that I know that you shall be there, I would not miss it for the world!" he said.

* * *

 **Copyright © 2016:** This story is property of the writer.

This is a preview only. The full story is now published. Please refer to my profile page for more information.


	2. PREVIEW: Chapter 6

**WORTHY OF BEING PLEASED**

 **Author's Note:** This is a sample chapter only.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam entered the Montgomery townhouse with a large throng of other guests. Mr. Saunders, his faithful valet, had appealed to him to wear the latest gentlemen's fashions to the prestigious holiday ball instead of his regimentals and Richard was vastly pleased that he had agreed. He had not been this elegantly attired in many years, with his coat of black superfine, tight fitting breeches and expertly tied cravat. He had insisted on the red plaid waistcoat, much to his valet's chagrin and he suffered no regrets for the choice; red was perfectly in keeping with the festivities of the season, he thought. Peter and Esther Montgomery, his dear friends of many years, welcomed him into their home and urged him to make himself comfortable.

"How festive you look, Colonel," Mrs. Simsbury exclaimed, joining their group. Richard warmly greeted Esther's mother and wished her the joys of the season. "I shall look forward to watching you dance this evening," she said with a merry twinkle in her eyes.

He remained in the vestibule for a few moments to have a private chat with the amiable lady, then entered the drawing room and joined the other guests. He was momentarily disappointed when he did not see Miss Hawthorne but his disappointment turned to dread when he observed Mr. Drummond unsteadily approaching him, cane in hand and a scowl on his face.

"I could not help but notice your attentions to Miss Hawthorne, Colonel."

Richard assumed a bland expression. "Could you not?" he said.

"Not in the least. Miss Hawthorne is an admirable lady, as you well know —"

Richard was already out of patience. "Are you courting Miss Hawthorne?" he bluntly inquired.

"No!" Drummond's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

"Then what concern is it of yours?"

"Miss Hawthorne is devoted to her niece and takes no attention to herself."

"I rather thought she enjoyed my attentions," Richard said.

Drummond clenched his jaw. "Shall you engage her affections and then go off to war, Colonel? Is that your intention; to leave her pining for you?"

"I have no such intentions, sir!" Richard struggled to maintain his composure and rather than allow the gentleman to continue to raise his ire, he decided to end the conversation. "Kindly excuse me," he said, walking out a side door to cool his temper on the balcony.

He could not very well be angry with Drummond for pointing out the obvious. He was indeed in town for a short time and would be returning to his regiment the following month. He had no right to engage any woman's affections, much less one as lovely as Miss Hawthorne; and beyond that, he was no prize on the marriage mart, as Drummond was. With a meagre military income, he had very little to offer a lady in search of a husband.

"What are you doing out here, Richard?" Peter Montgomery inquired, joining him on the balcony.

Richard took a breath to clear his head. "I just needed a moment, Peter."

Peter stood next to him, looking out on the scene below. The guest conveyances were lined up in the driveway and stable hands were seeing to the horses. "Did Drummond bore you senseless with one of his stories?"

Richard scoffed. "Of course not; one never tires of hearing a good story! I am certain I have nothing to rival his falling-off-a-horse tale!" he said with a smirk.

Peter laughed and clapped him on the back. "Ha! Nor I to be sure!" he said. "Come back inside. My wife is hoping for a dance with you."

He suspected his friend might have another reason for wishing him indoors. "Is she? Or are you hoping for an excuse to escape to the card room?" he asked with a smirk.

Peter slumped his shoulders. "Alas, I am banned from the card room this evening. I promised Esther I would keep to the ballroom tonight."

"Well then, by the end of the evening, I am confident you shall have a story to rival Drummond's."

They both returned indoors and were met by Esther Montgomery. "There you are Colonel! I hope you do not mind that I sent my husband after you," she said.

He did not mind in the slightest and immediately requested the honour of a dance with her. When the dance began, she circled around him. "Shall I be angry with Mr. Drummond, too?"

"No, indeed, he merely has Miss Hawthorne's best interests in mind."

She reached out her gloved hand and he grasped it. "As we all do, Colonel. I fear he has dampened your spirits," she said, stepping to the right.

"My dear Esther, I am privileged to dance with the loveliest lady at the most prestigious event of the holiday season. I can only be in the highest spirits!" he said, offering her an easy smile.

"Such flattery, sir!" She released his hand and he circled around her. "The young lady in question has arrived with her niece, in case you had not noticed," she said.

"I am pleased to hear of it," he said, but his spirits sank when he caught no sight of Augusta amid the vast crowd.

 **~~o~~**

Despite her wildly pounding heart, Augusta Hawthorne attempted to give the illusion that she had not a care in the world. But she could not deny that she was a trifle nervous about the party that evening. She took a deep breath to calm her jitters as the carriage arrived at the Montgomery townhouse. She had encouraged her niece to enjoy the evening to the fullest, yet she dearly hoped that the girl would make a favourable impression on the London elite. Moreover, there was the smallest hope lingering in the back of her mind that a recent acquaintance would approve of the efforts she had made with her appearance.

Augusta had allowed her maid to adorn her green velvet gown and slippers with gold ribbon trim. Her hair, which had been swept into a simple bun, was covered as usual, with a lace cap. She had refused to relent on the cap but could not resist splurging on the delicate ecru Parisian lace. But would the colonel notice?

When they entered the house, a footman collected their pelisses and bonnets and Augusta instinctively touched her neck, where her mother's emerald pendant hung on a delicate gold chain. She felt a connection to her dear mama and heard her voice encouraging her to hold her head high. Indeed, she and Geneva were greeted with the greatest enthusiasm by their fellow guests; it seemed that everyone was in awe of the Incomparable. Augusta clung protectively to her niece, by force of habit but chided herself for being overprotective. This evening they would be among friends; she had nothing to fear at a private ball of this nature.

While Augusta wore a modest neckline, Geneva's gown was intended to flatter her figure; the pale pink muslin was trimmed with lace around the sleeves and darker pink ribbon around the neckline and hem, and pink roses were embroidered along the bottom of the skirt. Her white kid slippers were enhanced with pink roses too, and her dark hair was fashioned into soft curls, secured by a pink ribbon. The colour suited Geneva to perfection and in Augusta's opinion, she had never looked lovelier.

They made their way through the crowd and into the ballroom, where they were greeted by Mr. Montgomery. "I hope each of you will save a dance for me," he told them. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Being the host of the evening affords me with certain privileges," he said with a delightful smile.

 **~~o~~**

Richard made his bow to the Hawthorne ladies, paying most of his attention to Miss Augusta Hawthorne. She appeared more relaxed, most likely due to the absence of disparaging harpies at this event. Despite the regrettable presence of a certain bothersome fellow, Richard would enjoy the evening and do his utmost to ensure that the lady did as well.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, your waistcoat is a wonderful reminder of the red berries that adorn the holly," she said, her eyes gleaming. She referred to the abundance of holly that had been placed throughout the house. He had paid no attention to the décor until she had mentioned it and he wondered how it had escaped his notice. Perhaps he had been too busy seeking her out.

"I am glad that you approve, Miss Hawthorne," he said, pleased by her pretty blushes. Indeed, he would wear this same waistcoat every day if she would grace him with such a glowing expression. He leaned in close to her ear. "You look lovely this evening in your holly green gown," he said. He decided to waste no time in requesting her hand. "Are you engaged for the supper set, Miss Hawthorne?"

She frowned. "No Colonel, but if I were to accept, I must arrange for someone to attend to my niece."

"Mrs. Simsbury has already agreed to do so, if you are amenable." He had taken care of that detail as soon as he had arrived.

Her eyes flew open wide in surprise. "Oh Colonel! You did not ask her!" she said, expressing her fear the lady's enjoyment of the evening might be impaired by such a request.

"I did. If I overstepped, I apologize," he said with a bow. In all truthfulness, he suffered no regrets for making the arrangement. Nothing would deter him from enjoying a dance with the lady. "You may inquire with her yourself but she assures me it is no imposition."

She smiled and relaxed her shoulders. "Then I shall be delighted." She dipped a small curtsy in acknowledgment.

"Will you also save me a waltz?"

She agreed to that too, turning a delightful shade of pink.

 **~~o~~**

While Geneva was dancing, Augusta sat with Mrs. Simsbury engaged in agreeable conversation. The older lady had assured her that it was no inconvenience whatsoever to sit with Geneva during the waltz but Augusta could not help but fret. However, her worry had little to do with Geneva; it was the dance that troubled her most. She had never waltzed in public before, as the waltz was considered entirely scandalous when she had made her come out, due to the physical closeness of the dancers. The waltz still was not permitted at Almack's but at a private ball such as this, it was perfectly acceptable. She and Geneva had practiced the steps together even though the younger girl would not be allowed to waltz just yet. Augusta knew she was perfectly prepared to perform the dance herself, but she could not deny the fluttering sensation she felt when she imagined dancing with the colonel in such an intimate manner. To be that close to him, to allow him to touch her torso; she felt a flush rise to her cheeks in anticipation. Then she chided herself for such foolishness; she had not been this nervous on the momentous occasion of her own come out but somehow this night felt even more important.

At the end of the set, her niece returned to her side. Still worried that Geneva would be required to sit out during the waltz, Augusta asked if she would mind terribly if she danced with the colonel.

Geneva grasped both of her hands. "Oh, how splendid, Aunt Augusta! I shall be watching every moment!" she said, with a luminous smile.

"I am also engaged for the supper set, if you would not mind," she advised her niece.

"Oh no, not at all Aunt Augusta! I am engaged to dance that set with Mr. Grantley."

"Well then you are sure to enjoy yourself. We shall sit together at supper so you can tell me all about it!" Turning to Mrs. Simsbury, she touched the older woman's hand. "You will keep an eye on her, will you not, Mrs. Simsbury?" she asked, hoping she was making a wise decision to trust Geneva's care to someone else.

"You may depend on me, Miss Hawthorne."

"Are you quite certain that it is no imposition?" The orchestra played the introduction to the waltz to announce the next set and she spied the colonel approaching from the other side of the ballroom. His relaxed yet confident stride set off butterflies in her stomach, a sensation previously unknown to her.

"Yes, quite certain, my dear. Go on then; off with you!" Mrs. Simsbury said, sending her off with a wave of her hand.

Despite her attempts to remain calm, Augusta felt her pulse race as the colonel drew near. She smoothed her skirts, hoping he would not notice her fidgets, and accepted his escort to the centre of the room. While they waited for the other dancers to take their places, she quietly confessed that she had never waltzed in public before.

He placed his hand over hers and offered a reassuring smile. "I am acutely aware of the honour you bestow on me, Miss Hawthorne," he said. He leaned in closer to whisper: "We shall muddle through somehow," he said.

When the dance began, she rested one hand on his well-formed shoulder, the other hand comfortably enclosed in his. The colonel placed his hand on Augusta's waist and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. It became instantly apparent that they had no need whatsoever to _muddle_ through the waltz; he was as proficient as he was elegant. As the son of an earl, his education could have suffered no neglect; his knowledge and skills were obviously well-tuned. Indeed, his manners and performance in the ballroom were everything that a young man's should be.

"You are a marvellous dancer, Miss Hawthorne," he said, gently squeezing her hand.

"You are to be given all the credit, Colonel! Your guidance has been invaluable." She followed his lead around the ballroom and felt a sense of freedom she had never known before.

 **~~o~~**

 **© 2016**

 **Note:** I hope you love Richard and Augusta as much as I do!

The complete story has now been published under the title: _"_ _Worthy of Being Pleased_ _"_. Please see my Author page for details.


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